


Silly Bouy, Cats don't like Water!

by ROTwhyler



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Assault, Drowning, Implied Relationships, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:35:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ROTwhyler/pseuds/ROTwhyler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why is someone attempting to drown you? What did you ever do? You have no enemies, no quarrels with anyone!</p>
<p>All Nepeta had wanted to do was enjoy a nice, relaxing afternoon staring at a babbling river she had found, but a particular someone doesn't like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silly Bouy, Cats don't like Water!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something new. For one thing, it doesn't involve Jade Harley in any way, nor does it involve Jadekat in any way. So yeah, this is a completely new thing. Also, I wasn't entirely sure how to tag this, so please inform me if I should change up the tags or anything else about it!
> 
> I was in the mood to write something with dark themes, and this happened. TW for attempted drowning/assault.
> 
> I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to continue with this or not, but I do have a general idea of what I want it to turn into if I do decided to keep adding to it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think! This was kind of an experimental thing for me so I wouldn't mind critique.

_Clogged, uncomfortable stuffy clogged clogged clogged pound pound everything hurts I can't breathe every time I try to breathe it's just stuffy pain and clogged clogged ohgodicantbreathe_

Your head seemed to both explode and implode all at the same time, repeatedly. A beast pounded its fists against your skull and tore your brain to pieces all while rocks fell onto your head, one after another. Or at least, that's what it felt like. Fingers with strong nails dig into your scalp, tugging at your hair with determined ferocity as your head is forced underwater. There's something strange about the way your offender is handling you though, something that you can notice even as your death is thrust upon you; there's a certain hesitance in the attacker's actions. Their brute strength turns into nervous reluctance and then back.

Being drowned gives a girl time to think.

With your bruised forehead pushing into the murky terrain at the bottom of the river and globs of dirt and sand sneaking into your open mouth while you thrash about, you quickly accept that there's no way your tiny frame is overcoming whatever monstrous being towers over you. So instead, you take the remaining minute and a half of your life to reflect on a couple of things; what kind of enemy could you have made that wants to do this to you? 

Is it _Her_? No, it can't be Her. You guys are kind of friends, and _He_ wants nothing to do with you so She can't be jealous enough to do this. It'd be unlawful violence anyways, which is against everything in Her books. Her obsession with justice and violence is dangerous, but not to this degree. How could a blind girl find Her way out here to murder you anyways?

What about the other one? _She_ wouldn't be against killing for her own gain. You know that. Your old Friend knows that. Everyone knows that, except for the police obviously. But even so, you're unaware of a motive on Her part, although that doesn't necessarily mean She's lacking a motive.

No no no no no no no

None of that makes sense, the hands on the back of your head are much to rough, much too boy-like to be either of those girls. There aren't many boys who willingly associate with you anyways aside from _Him_ , but his hands are much more strong and burly than the ones killing you right now. He wouldn't want you dead anyways, you're everything to him, as he is to you. So who would -

_Air air air air airairairairair wind and a breeze and air oh my god theres AIR_

With force your head is yanked from the water. Immediately you start to sputter and to cough and choke and hack. Your body is doing its best to rid itself of the water and mud that invaded your respiratory system. But most of all, once air can pass through your mouth without getting caught on something gross that isn't supposed to be there and forced out, you breathe. You just kneel there and breathe.

The one who attacked you hasn't left. You can feel their presence beside you, watching you and breathing, breathing the precious air that they tried to steal from you.

_Selfish selfish selfish selfish selfish selfish_

Once you've cherished your returning ability to breathe for long enough, you twist your body around to give the person – no, the boy, the gross angry selfish boy – a wide-eyed look. You raise a violently shaking hand and point a finger with dirt crusted into the knuckle at him, and then you scream. You scream scream scream. He isn't fazed, surprised, or frightened by your commotion, because he knows that nobody will hear, and if they did, they wouldn't come snooping around. People keep to themselves around here.

You scream for what feels like months although it must have only been a couple minutes, maybe, and once you're quiet, there's nothing but a staring contest. He stares at you and you stare back at him.

“This is my spot.” He finally says, his upper lip curling a bit as if he's disgusted. “This is my spot and what do I come down here to find? You, you've stolen my spot.” You're baffled by his words. This isn't private property! This isn't near anyone's home! It's a small river in the middle of some woods that nobody cares about, and anyone is allowed here! Or at least, that's what you would've said if you could choke out words. How can he be so calm? So collected? He just tried to murder you and...And he's acting as if nothing had ever happened.

“Y-You...Why did...?” It hurts to talk. Your throat is scratched up and exhausted from the strain of gasping for air and then screaming afterwards. Still, the boy seems to understand what you're trying to ask, and so he replies:

“You're pretty.” His cheeks heat up and he twiddles his fingers together – his nails are polished and well kept, aside from the dirt, dead skin, and blood now crusted underneath them after his assault on you. Of course, his compliment means nothing to you. One of your hands slowly crawls towards the river, grasping at objects. He notices – you can tell he notices because his eyes flick towards your hand but then back at your face, as if he expects you to take the comment positively.

Finally you respond by promptly hitting him upside the head with the biggest rock your hand could easily toss around, and his body slumps to the ground limp and unconscious.

_Safe safe safe safety this is safe that was okay you're okay now run run run go home you're safe now._


End file.
